


Paper Sun

by FracturedFairyTales



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Betrayal(s), Demon Deals, F/M, I'll add tags as I post, Lost Memories, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secrets, Sexual Situations, Sexual Tension, Small Scenes of Violence, Trust Issues, follows the games with a little change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FracturedFairyTales/pseuds/FracturedFairyTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never wanted to come back here, didn't want the memories of heart break, betrayals and pain the place and people reminded her of. And yet here she was, back again because of a deal she made a few years again, a deal that they told her they couldn't break. It didn't matter that she had family here, a family she left behind, because she knew they were safe. She knew that they were better off without her.</p>
<p>But when did the universe ever favour her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Deal Cannot Be Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, I can't believe how horrible the original thing of this is.
> 
> It's originally posted on FanFic but I'm looking through my stories there and while I actually like Paper Sun, the chapters don't really make any sense unless I explain them so I decided to change a few things but then it turned into a rewrite and I decided to post it here, instead of just scraping the whole thing on FanFic and replacing the chapters. So, I'm going to make all the chapters connect to each other now, perfectionist I am.
> 
> Also, the name Torpor calls her? It means Light in Italian.

The thing was, Dragon Age was just a game, it wasn’t real, the characters didn’t exist. There was no such thing as demons, mages, templars, darkspawn, Grey Wardens or Chantry sisters and brothers that had Mothers, Divines, Grand Cleric’s or Seekers because that universe didn’t exist and never had. It was an idea BioWare had and a world they created for entertainment.

Or, that was what Hart had thought before.

As she stares up into the face of a desire demon she knows by name, she could only feel irritation well up inside of herself. She had thought that the Dragon Age world was through with her, that she‘d been through enough of the crap she‘d been forced to endure, forced to do for the protection and love of the people she came to love, only to be abandoned or betrayed.

Hart had told them she was never coming back, that she was leaving for good and not to come get her, despite the deal she made at the beginning.

She wanted to believe Sheba was nothing but a hallucination but it wouldn’t be something that would fool her. Sheba was real and she was right in Hart’s face, simply staring at her and she resigned herself to whatever she was about to go through. But that didn’t mean she was going to cooperate for Sheba, or Torpor, if he was there so she simply stared up at Sheba, into her familiar green eyes. She wanted to see what would happen next, or see if Sheba would simply disappear instead.

Hart’s eyes strayed when she heard a familiar chuckle. “Hello to you too, Luce,” his voice rumbled, deep and husky, sending a small shiver down her spine. She didn’t know how she knew Torpor or Sheba, simply that she did. There was no memory she could draw from that would shed light on the situation between them and something she didn’t really want to remember anyways.

Instead of letting Torpor see her reaction to hearing his voice, Hart frowns as she sits up, Sheba morphing her frame to that of a human female, all beauty and curves once she finally gets out of Hart’s face.

There was an amused smile on Sheba’s face, one that made her faked scowl turn into a real one. “Hello Torpor, Sheba.” she said, eyes narrowed on Torpor as his morphed too, handsome with regal features and still tall, but not as hulking as his Pride demon form. His grey eyes watching her intently as she tilted her head upwards to see him. A glint entered his eyes that she perceived as familiar but she couldn’t tell why, the answer alluding her.

Hart looks away from him to look at their surroundings, missing the sadness that flashed in his eyes.

“So why am I here?” she asks, breaking the silence as she gets off the ground, dusting off imaginary dirt so she wouldn’t have to look at either demon. “But didn’t you wish to be brought back after a certain time, so you can stop Anders?” he quirks an amused smile, Hart simply frowning at his words. “I’ve had enough of this world. It’s brought me nothing but heartache and pain.” she hisses, eyes hard as memories of her time emerge from the darkest corners of her mind.

Torpor tilts his head the slightest, long white-blonde hair following his movements as he raises an eyebrow at her. “And yet you made a deal to come back after you’re twenty fourth birthday has past, to try and right the wrong Anders is going to do in six years time.” he hums, appearing thoughtful. “A deal I regret,” Hart snaps, exasperated with him as Sheba sashays her way over to her. “But a deal is a deal, Hart, and that’s something demons can’t break,” she purrs, making the young woman roll her eyes.

“Regret.” is all she says, tensing as Sheba wraps her arms around her neck and leans her weight against her, affectionately nuzzling her cheek. “We know, we know. But we can make it easier on you this time,” she cooed, stroking Hart’s raven locks before she was pushed away harshly. “What part of regret and no don’t you get?” she snorts, moving to walk away before she’s suddenly trapped by Torpor, his arms wrapped around her and caging her arms against her body.

“But we can do so much more for you now. We can help you survive this world better, make him love you along with that foolish spirit,” he murmurs to her, making Hart angrier at his words. “And what makes you think I still love them, huh?” she snaps, breaking out of his hold when his arms went slack, his eyes reflecting shock and something else as she glares at him, a sneer on her face. “The answer will always be no.”

She see’s Torpor smirk, emotions being hidden away again and he saunters closer to her, “You have no choice now, Luce.” he says, a grin pulling at his lips at her enraged face. His large hands encircled her upper arms, making Hart still and look up at him, eyes narrowed.

She knows he see’s the unusually cold, distant look in her eyes, something that had never been there before giving her a charming smile, “Seeing as we’ll be seeing each other soon, and often…” he trailed off wickedly, smile widening as she stiffened. “I should warn you that the price is just as high as the first deal,” she felt his lips brush against hers teasingly, lightly.

As everything fades to black as he casts the spell, she wonders why he feels familiar too.


	2. the Starting of Hart

She watches dully as the Dalish elves finally take notice of her, already knowing that there’s scouts coming up behind her, barely even reacting when there’s a sword at her neck. “What are you doing here, shem?” an accented voice snarls behind her, nudging her roughly with his boot. Hart feels her anger flare up at him, “Well I’m not a wild animal, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out!” she snips coldly, standing up and doing nothing more as she glances at the male elf glaring at her.

She had no weapons, and she wasn’t about to attack the elves with her hands as the ones in the back had arrows trained on her. Her jaw clenched and Hart wonders what she can tell them, if she can say the truth…but could she? Demons were a no-go with the Dalish, especially now that Merrill, the stupid little thing, is making deals with demons.

She looked up at the sky, hating them for bringing her back, hating herself for making the deal in the first place.

“Oh, Da’len,” a weary voice says from below and makes Hart look down, seeing the saddened, disappointed look on Marethari’s face as Merrill spots her and lets out a strangled noise, eyes clearly shining.

Well, at least she now knows who helped Torpor bring her into this place. 

She knew demons couldn’t really do anything in the real world without a little push from a mage or mageling, someone easily corrupted or desperate for something. It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it should be, and it only made Hart a little annoyed because of course Torpor would have to have the most annoying little thing help because he knew it’d piss her off, didn’t he?

Actually, she did want to strangle them. All three of them, the fuckers.

“Keeper Marethari,” she greets the older lady, tilting her head in acknowledgement. “A pleasure to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” she added. She noticed the elves below bow their heads and whisper to each other-speculating about the shemlan, no doubt. Maybe even wondering where she came from, or how she knew where to find them. After all, everyone knew that you did not find the Dalish if they did not want to be found. They found you.

A frown deepened Marethari’s face, making her appear older, more haggard and tired. “I am sorry, for what my First has helped do,” Marethari says, the tiredness leaking into her voice. “Fenarel, bring the young one down. We shall discuss what will happen when she and I have finished speaking.”

There was a growl from one of the angrier looking females before Fenarel nudged her none too gently in the direction he wanted her to go in, looking less then pleased.

She couldn’t blame them, really. She knew of the mirror, of their kin who died because of what the shemlan’s had been babbling about when Mahariel had stumbled across the three. How Mahariel and what’s-his-name had gone to the ruins to see what was wrong, to observe if it was a threat to the clan. Little had they known that they had walked into their own deaths, going to the mirror, touching it…slow deaths. Painful deaths. Even the Joining was more merciful then what they had done through.

It was also not something she would wish on Zevran, hate him as she might for abandoning her.

“It was the right thing!” Hart suddenly heard, eyes instantly landing on Merrill as she ran away with tears in her eyes. Keeper Marethari looked more frail up front then in the distance, it almost made her feel more then sympathy for her. Almost.

Marethari gave a long sigh, silently telling Hart’s guards to leave before guiding her over to an open fire near her caravan. The faint outline of Kirkwall caught Hart’s eyes, making her turn her head so she could observe it.

The city did indeed look like the City of Chains. The Gallows standing tall and grim, even from a distance, with the city not too far from it. Brighter then the Gallows but still holding a sense of…wrong--foreboding, even, as you gaze at it long enough. Her gaze hardened, remembering bits and pieces of the game and knowing that in the upcoming years, they would start to play out, like a domino affect once Anders made his appearance along with the newly transformed Vengeance.

A part of her throbs in a dull ache, knowing that despite what she did in Amaranthine, it did not stop Anders from fusing with Justice, twisting him into Vengeance and leaving Amaranthine, breaking his promise to…

She tore her eyes away from Kirkwall, meeting Marethari’s eyes instead. For now, the old lady was safer. “Before you say an apology, I think you should know that even if Merrill hadn’t helped Torpor and Sheba, they would have found a way to bring me here.”

Marethari’s shoulders sagged at her words, something she felt slight annoyance at, because for all of Merrill’s stupid and dangerous decisions, the Keeper had decided it was her fault, her weight, that she had to carry because Merrill didn’t know any better.

It sort of reminded her of how she used to be, as Faustine, always knowing that this could happen, how the story would have played out if she hadn’t been present.

“Yes, but I am still sorry. Merrill…” the old Keeper trailed off, sadness hanging on every word. “She thinks demons and blood magic will aid her, she is being manipulated into thinking she is doing what is best for the clan.” Hart scoffed at her words, resent and a small dose of recognition making her look at Marethari instead of the ground. “You sheltered her too much, coddled her when you should have been disciplining her and teaching her. You shouldn’t have told her lies,” she snarled.

Faustine had thought sheltering would save them all too, once, but how wrong she had been.

Her eyes softened at Marethari, at how pathetic the frail woman looked. “If it is of any condolences, Keeper. It is not your fault, though you played a path towards this--Merrill chose to turn to blood magic on her own, to accept and listen to demons who only want to harm. If this is anyone’s fault, it is Merrill’s.” she turned away again, looking over the camp. The elves were wary, keeping eyes on her and making sure she didn’t do anything harmful, but also keeping their distance in respect for their Keeper. “I’m here, I was always supposed to come back here. Whether it be by Merrill’s help or some other mages help, so in a sense, maybe I am to blame as well.” she hated the words as they left her mouth, knowing that it was partly true and partly false.

She had made a deal to come back, to try to do some good back when she had been Faustine. But she wasn’t that person anymore. She wasn’t as forgiving, as loving--No, she was harder, more grown up, she wasn’t the little girl she used to be. Her mistakes were her own and ones she regrets when she thinks on them too long but Merrill? Merrill is not her mistake, not a problem she is obliged to fix.

She had more pressing matters to attend too, important things that needed to be done.

“Be that as it may,” Marethari spoke up, “I will try to help you. I do not know how much help I can be, or if I even can but I will try. And I shall speak with Merrill,” there was a hand placed on Hart’s arm, one she supposed was meant as comforting but it didn’t feel as such to her and so she shrugged it off, disgruntled and angry all over again.

She wanted to snarl at Marethari, demand to know how she can still be so forgiving to Merrill--to her--with the attitudes they had but she bit her tongue, holding the words back.

“You may stay with us, young one. Though I would advise not to…” Marethari turned her eyes to her clan members, making Hart give a humourless laugh. “be rude to them?” she finished the sentence, shaking her head. “You don’t have to worry about that, Keeper. I shall keep my distance, if your elves will keep theirs and there won’t be any blood shed.”

Hart walked off, moving to explore the forest around them to try see if there were any good places to remain in sight of them, but keeping a fair distance away.

Groups of possibly hostile people, no matter who they were, made her paranoid. It reminded her too much of Amaranthine and the betrayals that had happened there, at realizing she couldn’t trust everyone.

It was also the starting of her growth.


End file.
